Many readers were seduced by what one called the "musky Fitzgeraldian glamour" of this tale about two cousins wronged in love retreating to the family's Martha's Vineyard home after World War II—to disastrous result when their children find a corpse. Other readers, however, were turned off by the creepiness of the mise-en-scène.

Set against the backdrop of post–World War II America, novel tells of cousins who return to their family's estate on Martha's Vineyard one summer in the hope that nostalgia for better times will bring comfort to their disappointing lives. Helena, recovering from marrying a man who never truly loved her, and her daughter, Daisy, reunite with cousin Nick, fleeing a similarly damaged marriage with her son, Ed. While at the estate, the children come upon the body of a dead woman, sending the whole town upside down. Soon, the family's goal of a fun-filled summer becomes fraught with deceit, affairs and desperate acts of secrecy that will change their lives forever.—Cassandra C., Fairview, TX

Klaussman accesses each of her characters' voices with startling realism and richly develops the killer's inner narrative. While the killer is clearly the villain of the story, we are led to understand how each of the other characters were complicit in deforming that person. The period details make the tale that much more compelling, from Helena's gauzy time in Hollywood to Nick's life in Florida, where she has difficulty conforming to the requirements of being a perfect post-war housewife.—Elizabeth Moeller, Syracuse, NY

Tigers in Red Weather is luxurious, sentimental, and creepy, all at the same time.—Julia Rogers, Santa Cruz, CA

I found myself wanting to know more about the murdered woman's identity. Instead, the author focuses on the two cousins and their children, only returning to the passionate details surrounding the crime at the book's end—whhich is explosive, with twists that we definitely don't see coming.—Lori Matthews, San Francisco

Klaussmann attempts to build a narrative about love and missed opportunities over two generations. As the novel unfolds, each character takes us into the corners of their painful memories, fears, and anxieties. While the story starts strong, a palpable dissociation develops, inhibiting our ability to invest in the family's dysfunctional relationships. For all the psychological access Klaussman gives us, these people become strangers by the end.—Daphne Muller, New York City

Though the premise feels slightly pretentious at the outset, Tigers in Red Weather evolves into a tale that touches all the senses, leaving you hungover from an overdose of musky Fitzgeraldian glamour. The storyline acts as a foil to its colorful, fully imagined characters, each of which acts as the narrator in turn. The setting could not be more enchanting, even in its most gruesome circumstances.—Ginger Pennington, Santa Monica, CA

Liza Klaussmann's succinct mastery of the English language made this book a fast, heady read—I couldn't put it down. The only thing missing was a sun-soaked hammock to sink into while I turned the pages.—Karyn Polewaczyk, Boston

The plutocratic excess of extended family and friends in this island-wedding-off-Cape-Cod yarn made some readers grumpy, but others surrendered to the full amplitude of hilarity and heartbreak unveiled over the course of one weekend.

Shipstead's debut novel is an intimate look at a New England family come undone by love, marriage, sex, and heartbreak. At their breezy vacation home on the island of Waskeke somewhere off New England, the Van Meters plan what they hope to be a relaxing wedding for their pregnant daughter, Daphne. But there is more trouble than calm in paradise. A host of colorful characters makes for a boozy weekend where lust, jealousy, and ugly fights ensue. Seating Arrangements is that rare novel where you laugh out loud on one page only to be moved by poignant sadness on the next. The humanist self-awareness of the novel elevates its subject matter, compelling us to immerse ourselves in the tangled lives of this seersucker-clad set.—Daphne Muller, New York City

This is a perfect debut novel: funny, subtle, and written with style. Shipstead's page-turner, which takes place over one histrionic wedding weekend, is the kind of satire you'd get if you crossed Father of the Bride with Death of a Salesman. Unpacking familiar themes—old boys' clubs, unrequited love, and family get-togethers—Seating Arrangements sails poetically from one character's psyche to the next without ever disturbing the narrative flow. None of these characters are entirely likeable, and some of their actions are abominable, but set against the beautiful summer island backdrop of New England parties, the story retains the feeling of a happy farce, even when the themes get weighty.—Ginger Pennington, Santa Monica, CA

The young female characters in Seating Arrangements are rendered with delightful realism as they struggle with the post-college questions of where to go in life, who to be with, and ultimately, what kind of person to be. In a different kind of book, the bride would have been the main character, but Shipstead instead tells the bride's story from the point of view of her family and friends, making for a more interesting and complex read.—Elizabeth Moeller, Syracuse, NY

I enjoyed Shipstead's story but found it difficult to empathize with the attitudes and mindsets of her larger-than-life characters. While the father's midlife crisis is entertainingly cringe-worthy, the other plotlines prove less than engrossing.—Julia Rogers, Santa Cruz, CA

As a native New Englander and frequent visitor to the Cape and Islands, I was disappointed by Shipstead's characters, whose overly fantastical troubles were neatly zipped into matching bridesmaid dresses come the end of the story.—Karyn Polewaczyk, Boston

Shipstead has written a funny but caustic novel about the way families tend to make life so much harder, especially when you don't really need the sturm und drang. It feels like this book is written in 3-D—every character jumps off the page.—Jana Siciliano, Metuchen, NJ

Many points for emotional realism and gravitas accrued to this story about a Fourth of July family reunion to mourn the death in Iraq of the Frankels' son, a war correspondent—a loss that has brought his parents' long marriage to the brink of failure. But some bridled at the tale's unrelieved gloom.

The World Without You tells of a family coming together for the one-year anniversary of a son who was killed in Iraq. Mired in grief, the parents have tentatively decided to separate and are tasked with sharing this news with their three daughters, who bring along their husbands and children for the memorial. Each character is developed with such sensitivity and originality that it would be easy to believe that this book was non-fiction. I felt like I knew this family as well as I do my neighbors.—Lori Matthews, San Francisco

During the Frankel family's weekend reunion, the children hash out their sibling rivalry and deal with the grief of losing their brother. Their emotions and interactions are universally applicable, and the way in which the memorial brings the family closer together feels startlingly real.—Cassandra C., Fairview, TX

Henkin delivers an expertly detailed account of one family's struggle to move on from loss. However, where the novel should feel intimate and moving, it comes off as detached. I felt like an uneasy houseguest wanting to escape this uncomfortable family drama.—Daphne Muller, New York City

Henkin is obviously a gifted writer with a talent for honestly capturing the day-to-day, but this gloomy tale feels like it's been done before. A story about death means that most of our characters are looking backward, which makes for a plot filled with flashbacks. The shaky pacing plods on without much direction. As in life, politics run rampant in The World Without You, but at times the political theme seems a little heavy-handed, getting in the way of the truth of the characters and their actions.—Ginger Pennington, Santa Monica, CA

Henkin's story of familial hamartia was heart-wrenching and relatable. Readers will appreciate its multiple viewpoints, which clasp the Frankel family together on a slightly-tarnished chain, its reticent fragility a reminder of the guard we must all let down in order to let others, including ourselves, in. Best read with a box of tissues.—Karyn Polewaczyk, Boston